


Panic Attack

by darkling2222



Category: Split (2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt and comfort, Romance, everything I write is so sappy and I'm pretty embarrassed by it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 05:16:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10757475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkling2222/pseuds/darkling2222
Summary: Fluffy little college!AU fic with Kevin and an OC





	Panic Attack

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t like this one, it’s weird? You have to come in under the assumption that they know each other well but aren’t quite dating? Sorry guys, it's kind of cute and soft so I hope y'all like it!

Kevin leans against the wall, breath heaving and ragged, lungs raw with the winter wind. His body is rigid and his eyes are screwed tightly shut, the picture of repressed panic. The music of the party bleeds into the alley, it was a mistake to come here, he should have known not to go out but you’re supposed to go to parties in college, aren’t you? He thought it’d be okay to just try it out but the place was too much, too loud, too many people, overwhelming.

And now he’s alone in a dirty alley having a panic attack, right on the edge of dissociation. How embarrassing. 

He tries desperately to stay himself but nothing feels real, the world seems so far away, panic triggering a switch. He can feel Dennis pressing into his consciousness, the protector. 

He hears the back-door slamming shut and a voice calling out. He flinches at the noise. 

“Kevin? You out here?” It’s Amelia, thank god. She’s one of the closest he’s ever gotten to a friend, she knew what little he could stand to share about his past. But most of all, she knew about his disorder, although until this moment it had only been in the casual abstract. She had never seen any of his alters in person before and he’d very much like to keep it that way. 

But in the moment, he can’t bring himself to answer, hyperventilating. He hears her walking closer, high heels slipping on loose gravel until the sound comes to silence in front of him. 

“Sweetheart? Sweetheart, can you look at me?” her voice is soft now and after a moment he manages to open his eyes to look at her. She’s standing in front of him, six inches shorter and smiling encouragingly. “That’s good, it’s okay now, we’re okay.” 

Amelia reaches up slowly, gently, wrapping her arms up around his neck, standing close, face to face. The world seems to shrink to just her, the dull throbbing noise of the party behind them and the cold all around them blur into irrelevance, nothing feels real through a dissociative haze. “Can you tell me your name?” he struggles to make his thoughts work in a rational way, mind both racing and stalling all at once. Just remembering his name is a struggle through the tangle of panic and the ugly memories rising in his throat and threatening to overwhelm him. 

“Kevin.” He finally stammers the answer. She keeps her voice and expression calm and sure as he stares into her dark eyes, searching for any anchor to the present.

“That’s just right, honey, very good. Do you know where you are?” her voice is soft and praising. Even in the mess of a state that he’s in he recognizes the therapeutic technique, a way of grounding back to reality by focusing on the present situation. 

“Philadelphia,” he finally manages to gasp, “I’m in Philadelphia.” She smiles again, soothing.

“Good job, that’s right. Do you know who you’re with? What’s my name?” 

“You’re Amelia, I’m with you.” He finally answers. 

“Right again, you’re doing so good.” She presses her hand gently against his cheek, her hands are warm and soft. Her voice drops to a cooing whisper. “You’re safe here, Kevin, you’re in Philadelphia and you’re safe here with me. Everything is okay.” He nods, trying desperately to catch his breath.

“What’s the date?” she asks and he can’t focus, he can’t think of it, he can’t think, he’s going to get it wrong. She’s going to be mad. 

“I don’t know.” His voice cracks desperately like not knowing was enough to push him off the edge, shaking his head. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay, try and think. What month is it?”

“It’s December… I don’t know the day.”

“That’s okay, honey, everything is okay. You’re doing wonderfully, deep breathes now, everything is okay.” he nods and she continues asking him question and question, praising and calming as they go. The struggle of trying to thinking of answers is enough distraction to keep himself from being swallowed by his memories and eventually the feeling abates. He finally comes back under control of himself.

“Thank you.” He whispers finally, drained and exhausted as the tension leaves his body.

“You’re welcome, come here.” she presses closer and hugs him and he hugs her back. She’s soft and warm and holding onto her is centering, someone is here, someone cares, it’s okay. “There we go, that’s better.” She pulls back after a long minute and smiles up at him again. 

“Let’s go get something to eat, it’s freezing out here.” she twines her fingers in his, leading him down onto the sidewalk. The night is cold and stark but her hand is warm against his as they walk in soft silence. It’s nearly 3AM, the roads are empty and the houses are dark, like they’re the only people in the world. They find their way to a late-night diner, it’s staffed by one haggard looking waitress but otherwise it’s empty. They sit down in one of the booths, both of them seated on the same side, coats laid on the other side.

“Do you want anything to eat?” she asks as she gets up and he shakes his head, “I’m going to get something.” She comes to the counter and orders. He watches her back somewhat vacantly, dark hair tangled in waves and curls down her back, blue party dress tight on her hips. She came back with two mugs of coffee and smiles jokingly, “We probably shouldn’t be drinking coffee at this hour but at least it’s warm.” She sits beside him again and nestles close. “You feeling any better?” he wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her to him again and they snuggle together in the booth. 

“Yes, thank you… Thank you for helping me.” He answers softly. It’s something of a novel thought, no one had really ever put much effort into his well-being before he had met her. She had brought him to the party and stayed with him. She reaches up and kisses his cheek in answer before handing him one of the mugs. It was all very kind of her and he can’t help but feel a rush of affection for her. 

“Here, drink something. You’re freezing.” He smiles and takes a sip at her behest. They eventually lose the chill of the frigid outdoors as they sit together and the waitress brings over a plate of pancakes. She drowns the plate in syrup and she coaxes him into eating a few bites. They chat about all sort of things, mundane topics that don’t have any sort of deep meaning but it’s nice and it’s calm. She tells him dumb jokes and he can’t tell if it’s the punch drunk of being up at 3AM or some hormonal fallout of the anxiety attack or that he’s a little in love with her but everything she says is funny.

They stay much longer then they intend to, the hours slip by with bizarre speed in such early hours. After a while they fall into silence, the only noise is the soft dripping of the coffee percolator and the clinking of cheap ceramic plates behind the counter. The dawn breaks as they sit nestled together, watching the sun rises pink and gold through the diner window. 

He’s about to comment on the sunrise but when he looks down she’s asleep against him. Her head rests heavy on his shoulder, breath soft and sighing. He leans over and shyly kisses her forehead. He smiles, maybe he should go to parties more often.


End file.
